


Not Too Much To Ask

by T Verano (t_verano)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days fill for the prompt "peace", Christmas fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:30:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Jim likes the holiday season to be peaceful.





	Not Too Much To Ask

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt of "peace"

Peace. For a long time now, it's the only thing Jim's wanted when the so-called holiday season rolls around. Since his years in the Army, anyway. Peace — literal fucking peace — and quiet. There's nothing Scrooge-like about it, nothing Grinch-like; he just wants things to be ordinary.

It doesn't seem too much to ask. Not after the things he's seen, the things he's done, been called on to do.

Especially not after these damned senses started turning his life into a freak show.

Peace, that's all. And quiet. His own kind of quiet, not the strained quiet Christmas was most of the time when he was a kid; quiet as in comfortable, relaxed.

So explain to him why "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" playing on his stereo (loudly), accompanied vocally (equally loudly) by a long-haired, tinsel-strewn grad student —

(who's assaulting Jim's common sense as well as his sense of esthetics — as well as the loft — with some sort of unfortunate mixed marriage between Christmas decorations of the sort Jim's familiar with and…well, God alone knows what, but Jim has to assume they're anthropological in nature. Not that he's going to ask. He's not an idiot.)

— please explain to him why he's finding this _peaceful._ It sure as hell isn't ordinary.

Or quiet. But Blair's been showing him that quiet (or his ears' perception of it, anyway) is relative. Maybe peace is relative, too.

Blair does a spin turn in his socks, catches his foot on a too-long strand of garland he had draped over his shoulders, and lands on his ass near the couch. He grins up at Jim. " _You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa, we believe,_ " he sings (not too badly, Jim can admit that) and gets up, dusts off his rear, and spins away again on his socks, still singing.

It's almost enough to make Jim believe, too.


End file.
